Footprints in the Snow
by CarmellaD'Winter
Summary: Christmas is a time for reflection and family. Quinn Fabray knows this all too well. For the next twelve months, she's going to try and make the next Christmas just how she's always really wanted her life to be. 'What could have been' story for Quinn and unfortunatly it's a 'Forget the past and move on' story
1. Chapter 1: Footprints in the Snow

_Hi everybody. This is a story about regrets and correcting them as well as trying to make old dreams and new realities come true; what with Christmas Day being tomorrow. It's kind of Christmassy in the sense that it's being written at. Christmas but it's kind of Scrooge...anyway, I'm thinking of writing a Christmas Carol type story so this is a practice. _

_Enjoy :) _

**Footprints in the Snow**

Christmas is a time for family. It's what all the songs have sung about on the radio since the first radio was invented. All the Christmas cards have the messages of family and friends written within them. Every Christmas movie always has the moral of being around one's family at this particular time of year. The family gathered together is what makes Christmas so festive. Family is the definition of Christmas.

So why did this particular young woman not feel so welcomed into the festivities?

Walking along the snow covered sidewalks of New York, red gloved dressed hands tucked into the pockets of her camel coloured coat accompainied with matching scarf, this hazle eyed woman looked up at the lights of the Christmas decorated buildings and heaved a sigh. New York wasn't her dream. Her dream city was not here, amidst the mixture of business men and artists. Yes, she loved the city. How could she not, when it was so different and exciting compared to the little town she called 'home'? It was magical, especially at Christmas, but it wasn't where she longed to be. Her English and drama degree (from Yale nonetheless) got her a job she never envisiaged she'd have: teaching. It was comical really; a teaching job in a high school! She never thought she would be a high school drama teacher. Unlike some of her friends, she had never really known what she wanted to do. Sure, she had an expectation of what she could have done, but that was purely down to 'Small Town Thinking Syndrome'. Drama had always appealed - deep down within her. Probably because of her own life drama! Her teachers at Yale had told her she would be an amazing actress (would be!) But that wasn't what she wanted to do. Especially in New York. At least, not now.

Coming back to an earlier question, where was her dream city? In truth, nowhere. She didn't have a dream anything, choosing to live a life and not a dream. But it was this thought that made her suddenly have the ephiphany walking towards that huge, famous toystore in Manhattan. What was she doing with her life, besides inspiring teenagers and making them think they could be the next 'big thing'? It was rewarding, of course, but at the end of the day when she would walk through the door to her elegant appartment, greeted with silence, what else was she living for?

Now she found herself walking along a different sidewalk. A familiar yet so unfamiliar path. Her heart was beating wilding in her chest, and inside her gloves and coat pockets her palms were sweating. Not from the heat. Down this path she began to think about her life. As with every adult, she'll have regrets and there were only a few she really cared about: the baby she gave up, and the girl she lost.

First, the baby. Of course she knew giving her baby - her daughter, her Beth - away to someone else was the right choice. What life at sixteen could she give her? Yes, her mother had made that statement of keeping thw baby before she was born, but in reality there was no possibility.

Nearing the house, the blonde knew she shouldn't be where she was. The past should remain in the past. Yes lessons were learned and she had, but temptation of curiosity was always going to be a weak flaw.

Peering through the window of the modest (clearly a family orinated) house, she felt like a ghost. The window was a portal of not would could have been, but what still could come. Tears sprung to her eyes and a gasp formed in her throat. The blonde baby she gave birth to had certianly grown. And looked so much like her. The eyes were her father's and she imagined so was her smile, but everything was her own. She would never say she herself was beautiful, but her daughter - Beth - was more than that. She was exqusite.

Ten years old. Happy, healthy and so full of life. Dressed in a red Christmas dress with white tights and a bow in her long, blonde hair. She was angelic and delightful. And there was no way she could have turned out any better had she have stayed with her at sixteen. The little - almost grown up - girl suddenly looked up and put her book down ("The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe") and with a beaming grin leapt off the floor where she was sat by the decorated tree, and bounded out of the room.

The moment was over but memory would last forever; the outside ghost was possitive of that. Now on to the next wandering.

Love was not felt in high school, but great admiration was. There was always something troubling once she had given birth to the little girl who would always hold a specially remarkable place in her heart.

In this small town and her family, her feelings were not welcome. But she knew - as all small town girls deep down do - that it was only a matter of time before she would be allowed to love and feel whoever and whatever she wanted. It just so happened, she loved a beautiful, elegant, remarkable Broadway singer. Who herself was married and had a baby herself. The idea that the girl she had crushed on and now loved, was married to a man and tucked into bed every night a beautiful little girl (like her own) broke her heart.

But this was not a time for regrets.

For now, after wandering around more and more, the road was too far to walk and the air too cold to bear. It was Christmas Eve and almost Christmas Day. She had to get back, back to her mother. Smiling up at the moon and the stars, breathing steam into the night, she promised to try again. One gohst of her past had been laid to rest, but the second would have to wait. At least now she knew where she wanted her life to go: she wanted the girl she loved to love her back and to have a family.

Christmas is the time for family, and this Christmas she was going to start to journey to making these two ambitions to happen. Having her own baby once again was possible, but if after a year the girl haunting her dreams since high school was not greeting her with "I love you" and would not allow her to hold the precious baby girl like her own, she would lay that gohst to rest and truly start a fresh.

"Merry Christmas," Quinn Fabray whispered into the early hours of Christmas Day morning and she began to walk back to the home she left at eighteen to begin the lifw she had only really just realised she wanted.


	2. Chapter 2: Peering at Lost Love

**Chapter Two:**

**Peering at Lost Love**

Coffee aroma wafted up the grand winding stairs and through the gap under the door, floating through the air once again and made its way to the sleeping beauty's nose. In her sleep she inhaled and then awoke with a slight groan. Before her eyes had opened, she stretched her arms and legs under her warm duvet and made another groan.

Christmas was always the same in the Fabray household: coffee and breakfast, followed by sat around the tree to pen presents, followed by organised chaos whilst the women make dinner and the men talk about business and sport. This year, however, was going to be different. At first.

Cracking one eye open, Quinn looked towards her alarm clock and saw the time: nine in the morning exactly. Her mother would have been up for about half an hour now and so she thought this would be the perfect opportunity to get ready.

Hearing from her sister, Quinn had an idea of what mornings were like with young children. Where the baby was only young, it was possible she wouldn't see her until later. Still, the itch to at least get a glance - like she had the previous night - was too much to ignore. Jumping in the shower, she washed as quickly as she could and then dressed in something not overly festive, but still something to make known she was aware of what day it was.

Just as she was about to leave the house (gift tucked inside her coat pocket, snug and safe, Quinn was stopped by her mother holding up a mug of steaming coffee and wearing a bright smile.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart!" She cheered and somehow pulled her youngest into a hug without spilling the hot beverage on her. "Merry Christmas, mom." She greeted back, not quite so cheerfully. "Is dad up?" Pulling back, she asked but not really caring. Their relationship had certainly progressed since she was seventeen (when he came back into her life) but there were still some grudges she just could not let go. Like always, as long as they didn't talk about it, everything was fine.

Judy nodded her head enthusiastically, "Yes he's up and we're waiting for you to come and join us. It was then that she noticed Quinn's clothing. Frowning in that motherly disappointed way, she tutted at her daughter; "Quinnie you can be going out no, your father and I are opening the presents!" In previous years she would have swallowed her protests, taken her boots and coat off and come in. This year was different. Not just this Christmas but this whole year. So as she dropped her hand from her mother's and then shook head.

Ignoring the confused look on her mother's eyes, Quinn squared her shoulders and allowed her hands to reach into her pockets. "I need to go out now or I won't have time." Her mother grew more puzzled as the red scarf was delicately and yet tightly around her neck, heading towards the door once again. Reaching forward (in a dramatic movie style way) Judy called out; "But it's Christmas morning," to which Quinn dryly laughed slightly, "Exactly. Which is why I won't have time." Of course she could have just gone back in the evening, but getting two glimpses of her star in one day? The temptation was too much to handle. Besides, by giving herself two chances it gave her a chance to chicken out. With one, she absolutely had to do it. Again, just as she was about to leave, Judy called out in her shrill voice; "But it's tradition!" And once more Quinn laughed and shrugged her should; "Start the tradition without me." And with that, like snow in the wind, she was gone: leaving her mother, father and tradition behind just for a little while.

Forgetting he car yet again, Quinn took to the quiet snow covered streets and began to walk down the roads she knew far too well. Hands in pockets and head held high, although limbs trembling ever so slightly. Feeling the package within her coat pocket quivering in time with her nervous muscles.

With an infant in the house, Rachel would have thought she would be up for a while longer than she had been, but amazingly her little girl had decided to sleep in. How that would all change once she got older and knew all about Santa Clause, flying reindeer and presents. She had awhile for all that of course, as her young daughter could barely lift her head! Although she was of course convinced her daughter was a genius and a music protégé.

In her old bed - the one she had since she was twelve years old - she sighed happily and snuggled deeper into the arms of her husband. Feeling her body against his, he wrapped his arms around her and mumbled "Happy Holidays" into her hair and planted a soft kiss onto her head. She only had just enough time to whisper her love her own greeting of "Happy Holidays" sealed with a kiss to his lips, before their energetic, vocal four month old daughter made her presence known. They both laughed tiredly before untangling themselves. Rachel - being the mother - got out of their bed and picked up their little snowflake and settled her on the chest.

Their little 'singing' princess was dressed in a light blue onsie, decorated with snowflakes. Her large brown eyes stared up at her mommy and daddy and then, once she focused more fully on the familiar faces, she began to kick her legs and wave her arms, babbling her own "Happy Holidays" message. Both Mommy Rachel and Daddy Brendan laughed and tickled her belly, wishing their baby girl the greeting back.

When the fussing began to get too much, and once Imogen's belly was full of her mother's milk, the three of them made their way down the stairs to wish the Berry men "Happy Holidays" and to open presents before starting on lunch. Their own family tradition was very much the same as everyone else on Christmas morning: hot cinnamon rolls from the oven and tea to be feasted on whilst pyjama clad family members opened and shared presents whilst gathered under the tree.

Through the window, Quinn saw the similar tradition she usually took part in but found herself 'believing' in this a lot more than with her own family. The two older parents were dressed in their matching His and His dressing gowns, sipping tea and beaming at one another. The younger man - the son in law - crouched down in front of his wife and carefully opened a gift. Then, once opening it and revealing the contents, he grinned so widely and took his wife's head in his hand and planted a large kiss on her cheek before repeating the action to his tiny daughter. All of them smiled and laughed and talked as each present was opened but Quinn wasn't really looking at anyone else.

Only Rachel Berry had her attention. The sitar that hadn't aged one bit. Not in her eye or mind. Her smile was still as huge as ever and her eyes were as bright as they always were. Although she was standing quite a distance away, Quinn could still see just how beautiful this young woman was: just turned twenty seven years old and she didn't look a day older than sixteen - as cliché as it sounded. Her beauty radiated off her; she was truly radiant and, although she couldn't hear her now, she knew her voice was just as exquisite.

It was as if the girl had never grown up. She gazed and stared at her with the eyes of a love-struck teenager. Her Rachel had grown up of course, as had she, but both in two different ways. Where Quinn had simply become professional and adult, Rachel had bloomed and blossomed into a star. The star she was always destined to be. The star Quinn always knew she was going to be. Rachel had gone to Julliard and excelled, landing role after role, lead after lead and gained fan after fan. Quinn being her biggest one. She had fulfilled her dreams: succeeded more than even she could have thought. Rachel Berry: legend of Broadway, and only twenty seven years old. When Quinn turns twenty seven in the spring, what will she have achieved? Getting one of the sophomore football players to read a book? Perhaps, but nothing as outstanding as Rachel. Where the brunette thought she had been living in the shadow of the blonde for the first two years of high school, the blonde was now living in the starlet's.

And she was more than more than proud of her.

As much as she loved to stay and watch Rachel dance around her living room to classic Christmas songs, the sight was a little too heart-breaking. Clutched to her chest was the little baby that possibly made more headlines than TomKat and Brangalina's babies put together. Imogen E. Satin-Berry. It was a superstar name and she was surely a superstar baby, purely because of who her mother was. The baby was born early and it was quite a scare. When Quinn had found out she was unsurprisingly scared. The press had printed nothing about a complicated pregnancy, but apparently they ran in Rachel's family. Where (as far as Quinn knew) Rachel hadn't followed the same fate as Shelby, it was still a frightening time.

Through glassy eyes and a glassy pane, Quinn watched as Rachel rocked her precious, darling baby and kissed her fine, dowdy baby hair. She was small and adorable, exactly how Quinn imagined Rachel's daughter to be.

Of course she wasn't just dancing with her daughter. Behind her, wrapping his arms securely around his two girls was Rachel's husband. Tall but not traditionally handsome, but perfect for Rachel. Quinn tried to know as little about him as possible, but whenever Rachel did an interview she of course mentioned him: "Brendan's directing another show...no I'm not in it! ...he's of course very excited about moving away from the city..." All the usual stuff that wives had to say about their adoring husbands.

Yes it wasn't the baby in her arms that bothered Quinn, it was the man who was holding them that made her sniffle, wipe her eye and then walk away. Back to her own family; ready to pretend to be happy, bat away questions and put her plan to one side.


	3. Chapter 3: Since Forever

**Footprints in the Snow**

**Since Forever**

If hearts could really beat so hard they pounded out of one's chests, then Quinn really thought hers would. If mouths and throats could go so dry that the rest of the body cracked like the sand in the Arizona deserts, then Quinn really thought hers would. If palms - in contrast to her mouth and throat - could sweat and be so clammy that a brand new, deeper ocean could appear running right from her own hands, then Quinn really thought hers would. Her feet had been planted outside the (ironically) red door on the dimly lit, snowy porch for what felt like agonising hours for her. Hand raised and words on her tongue, Quinn could just not gather the confidence and courage to knock on and reunite herself with the woman whom she could not (and did not want to) get out for her mind for the past eight years.

Amazingly, she had managed to doge questions and smile politely all day. However she had not been able to put her plan to one side. It wasn't so much of a plan, as more a formulating idea. The simple version - full of Hollywood/Broadway romantic hope - was that she would go to Rachel's fathers' house, knock on and wish her Merry Christmas. Rachel would get over her shock at seeing her, pull her into a bear-hug and either allow her inside, or simply ask for a rain check. The more she thought about it, Quinn wasn't quite sure which version she wanted. If Rachel simply asked for a rain check, then Quinn could bob her head, smile and turn on her heel, not before coyly mentioning she brought her a Christmas card, reminding and telling Rachel they had to catch up. It would quick and painless and better, because it would mean no husbands (or husband) could get in the way and they could meet for coffee and talk. But if she was invited inside then wouldn't it be awkward? It would be weird, being introduced to Rachel's husband, dad, daddy and baby! And what if they were having more family round or they'd gone to someone else's place? Really it was all too much of a hassle.

But Quinn was still going. No amount of panicked thoughts was going to change that.

And the family dinner had only made her want to go more.

Frannie, her husband John and four boys had come for Christmas dinner, along with John's parents, Giles and Cynthia. The boys were as engergic as ever, especially when Grandpa Russell gave them each one of their Christmas presents as soon as they got in through the front door.

Miles-Russell was the oldest at nine years old. Both he and Quinn were very fragile around each other. With him being only a year younger than Beth, when he was born Quinn refused to see him. All the anger of "Why Frannie was allowed to keep her baby and she wasn't" was too much and she didn't really bond with him the way the other family members did. But she was over that and over the years she had tried to make bonds and connections with him (even if one of those bonds was telling him about the birds and the bees a little earlier than everyone wanted). As soon as he threw the paper off his gift, Miles ran out into the yard to play on his new scooter - bother grandmothers and actual mother telling him not to get dirty.

Two years after Miles, Peter-Giles was born and he hadn't stopped whining since! He was such the 'Momma's Boy' and she had heard her father talk her mother on numerous occasions about his concerns; ranging from his chronic bedwetting to him possibly being gay. Judy of course had rolled her eyes and said her was just 'sensitive', which was probably why his Grandpa Russell had given him enough sports goods and Junior Hunting gear for an entire boys private school! He too ran off to join Miles to practise tricks on his roller blades; Frannie grabbing him and planting a hard kiss on his head to wish him some sort of luck.

Another two years later, Daniel-John arrived and Quinn just knew her father loved him the best. He was smart and even at six years old his grandpa was teaching him the ropes of business. Russell had scooped the spectacle wearing boy up in his arms and pulled out a twenty dollar bill and asked him how much he and his brothers would get equally if he were to share it between them. In a matter of minutes, the young genius had guessed it correctly and was given his present of a new soccer ball.

Finally, yet another two years later, the youngest of their brood was born. Quinn remembered his arrival well, as there was a lot of annoyance over his name. The three boys already had their grandfather's and father's names hyphenated into their own; so what could this boy's name be? Judith-Cynthia would have been so much easier! But no, they were blessed with another son. Quinn mentioned on passing one name as a complete joke. And yet they used it: William. Who would have thought Quinn's youngest nephew would be named 'after' her old high school Glee Director and Spanish teacher!

Each boy was almost identical to their grandfathers. It was humorous to Quinn because it appeared their genes were skipping out the resemblance of their actual parents the more they grew up. Miles had the Russell Fabray light blonde/ginger hair and bright blue eyes, where Peter had his other grandfather's light brown hair and green eyes. The other two boys mixed it up a little: brown hair and blue eyes, blonde/ginger hair with green eyes. It scared Quinn a little to think how close to Russell and Giles the boys would look once they reached their age. She felt a little sorry for Frannie that the only child that had inherited something of her looks was the son that her father was trying the most to mold him like himself. Even though Frannie had inherited the Fabray blue eyes and blonde hair, her sons' eyes and hair were still not a lot like hers, and still more of their father's. That would always be the difference between Frannie's boys and Beth: Beth only looked like Russell and Judy, because Quinn herself looked like them. Beth was all Quinn, even now when she saw that small glance at her. One day her other children would be the same, she was sure.

As much as she loved her nephews, they were awfully annoying at times. Really she should be able to tolerate them, being a teacher and all. Maybe when they hit puberty she'll like them as well as love them...

Once the boys (even the baby of the family, William) were off playing with their new toys and making their grandpas play with them before their important grown up talk, Frannie turned to Quinn for the first time since walking through the door and smiled at her;

"Hey little sis," she greed in that loud and 'showy' way Fabrays make a greeting, even in the privacy of their homes where there was no need to be loud and showy. Still, the woman smiling next to her was her sister first and a Fabray second (as weird as that was) and she had to show they were still united, even if it had been a dangerously long time since they did anything 'sisterly'. Where Quinn lived in New York, Frannie and John were living the life of their parents: living in a Conservative town living a Conservative life. Frannie was happy with her traditional life, and Quinn was going to happier with hers. Where the plan had to stay quiet whilst with her family during this holiday, the new plan of reconnecting with her sister was going to start.

With the small tilt of her head, Quinn indicated to the leather couch for them to sit on. As the sisters sat down, Quinn greeted her sister with the same phrase they had always used; "Hey big sis," and she rolled her eyes with conviction. At the action Frannie laughed and slapped her gently on the younger blonde's thigh. "We need to come up with better nicknames!" Grinning, Quinn laughed with her and retorted; "We've come up with a few great ones over the years, Fran!" Laughing, the two of them thought of all the names they had called each other over the years. From the childish derogatory terms of 'giant poopy face' and 'little smell baby fart' and the middle/high school snaps of 'stuck-up bitch' and 'ponsy Prom Queen Wannabe' to the tender, touching, truly loveable sisterly names like the caring 'smushy rock' and 'cuddle sword'. They were quite poetic with their private names for each other, but the everyday terms of F-doll and Q-bee were their personal favourites. The really hurtful names they came up with during fits of rage and anger were never spoken off; either because of pain or shame.

Their reminiscing of their childhood names didn't last long, and soon they were back to the present and the older sister beamed at the younger and said; "You must tell me about New York. Are you really still just teaching acting and seriously not going for real theatre parts?" The way she emphasised certain words made Quinn sigh heavily. "Francis it's my life, okay? I like teaching drama and literature. I'm not an actress. I'm not a Broadway star-"

"I didn't say Broadway," Her sister interrupted. "There are other plays and theatres in New York other than Broadway!" Her sister squeezed her thigh again, stressing her point and Quinn shook her head, looking down at her lap, one shoulder shrugging in that 'I don't care now let's forget about it' kind of way, that was always so irritably Quinn. "I'm not an actress, I'm a teacher and I like it." She stressed and gave her sister one of her 'looks'. Knowing exactly how to play her, Frannie smirked; "Not love it?" With the classic, inherited raised Fabray eyebrow. Smiling softly, Quinn met her sister's eyes. "It's what I want to right now. I want to teach and..." Suddenly shy, she shrugged her shoulders and sighed dreamily. "Maybe write?"

The revelation took her sister by surprise and she exclaimed; "What do you want to write?" And then Quinn shrugged, not wanting to reveal what she didn't just want to write but what she had written. Instead, she stood up - bringing Frannie with her - and instructed they help with dinner. They stood together and worked on their tasks of pealing, chopping, slicing and anything else they were instructed to do. With her elbow, Frannie nudged her and asked Quinn to continue. The younger of the two was mute, which frustrated Frannie. "Come on Quinn," she whined and Quinn simply rolled her eyes. "I didn't even know you were that into reading until a few years ago. Now you're telling me you want to write?" Sighing heavily, Quinn began to chop a little more frantically. "I've got a story to tell and I think I want to tell it, okay?" In truth, she had many stories to tell. She had collected them over the years and having taught drama and literature for a few years, why not write them down? Rather insultingly, Frannie widened her eyes and moved her lips closer to Quinn's ear so she could whisper; "You've actually got an idea to write about?" She sounded surprised at her little sister's ability to think, create and produce. Snapping with slight hurt, Quinn sharply turned to Frannie and scowled. "I've collected experiences over the years, Frannie. I've been to college and travelled and done things, met people..." She shook her head and tried to calm herself down. A flash of Rachel's ambition coursed over her. "I have ideas and I want to transform them into something. What's what wrong with that?" Sensing her sister's frustration, Frannie shook her head and smiled, trying to show she didn't mean anything bad. "Sorry, okay? I just thought..." She bit her lip and then looked over her shoulder. Watching her mother and mother-in-law laugh together for a moment before turning back to Quinn. "When you said 'story' I thought you meant," and then she mouthed her name. Again, Quinn growled in her throat quietly. "She isn't the only thing I think about, you know. Other stuff has happened since her and she isn't on my mind constantly. Unlike your own children." The topic was dropped, and instead they kept their conversations back on trivial things: things where no emotion was involved.

Dinner was finally served and the day was still going according to plan (and tradition). However, with the four boys at the table as a sign, and with the holiday celebrating the birth of a baby boy, the conversation turned to babies. Cynthia was very much a 'family woman', having come from a large family and raised a large one herself - spreading the holidays between hers and Giles's children as fairly as possible. She almost expected her children to go the same way: as if four boys wasn't enough! The two grandpas of the couple were absolutely thrilled with four grandsons. It was of course, only fair that the grandmothers got a chance of gushing over a baby of their own gender.

Slicing up her turkey in the delicate way they had all been taught to do, Cynthia gave her daughter-in-law that famous wise woman tight-lipped smile and asked; "So Frannie, even though you've got your hands full do you think you'll try for a girl?" Of course it wasn't up to just Frannie (and by the rules of genetic science, really it was 'up to' John) but by asking her made it appear as if she could have the upper hand. Where the three men were talking amongst themselves at one end and the boys amusing themselves quietly at the other, the women were free to discuss their 'female thoughts'.

Almost simultaneously, Quinn and Frannie dropped their cutlery and stared at the questioning woman. Their eyes were slightly wide, and Quinn looked to her sister. She didn't think Frannie would have more children but being the 'Christian woman' she was, who knew! It was, after all, written in The Bible that it was her duty to have as many children as possible (even if Quinn believed that that particular remark only really made sense during biblical times considering they now had reasons for not having so many children - health being one major factor!) As the question was directed at her, Frannie gave her mother and mother-in-law polite, small smiles and shook her head. "As much as I would love to have a little girl, I think I'm going to stick to my precious boys." With that, the conversation (as far as Frannie was concerned) was over. Where Judy nodded her head, knowing how difficult it would be to have a baby girl with the boys, Cynthia frowned slightly. "But wouldn't you love to buy dresses and have dolls and pink in the house, not just footballs and soccer balls and fighting filling your house? How lovely it would be for you to have a little daughter to play with and raise. Bake cookies together and play dress up, do girly things instead of smelly boy things?"

Clearly Cynthia still thought she still lived in the nineteen fifties. She also hadn't heard of tom-boys! Quinn and Frannie had it in their heads that if a girl was to come their way, she would be just as 'smelly' as her brothers. No matter how much pink Grandma Cynthia and Grandma Judy dressed her in; the male influence was there in the form of her brothers! And, the most difficult topic of all would yet again be her name: neither Cynthia nor Judith were names that both Frannie and Quinn liked for a new baby girl.

Besides, as the Fabrays knew but didn't acknowledge, a little baby girl Fabray had already been born and even though an entire decade - somehow - had passed, the two grown up girls just couldn't imagine another girl. She would always live in the shadow of the first little girl. Although Frannie had never met her or even really had much to do with her existence, Frannie could never do that to her sister. Her boys had been blessings. If she had had a girl, their almost none existent relationship would certainly have been more strained.

Again Frannie smiled at Cynthia and used her old (but not forgotten) Fabray charm. "As much joy having a little girl would bring us, I don't think I want to have any more children." Her eyebrow raised at her mother-in-law and the corner of her mouth raised a slight fraction. "My boys are enough for me." And that was the end of the conversation - for Frannie anyway. The sister winked and smiled at Quinn. Even if she hadn't been there for her sister during her pregnancy, she had been there for her years later. Once she got out of high school and could talk about everything without breaking down so much, Frannie listened and promised to never judge her or make her regret anything, ever. They only ever talked about it once, after that she was a strictly no go area.

They may not have been the closest sisters in the world - hardly ever seeing each other or really speaking about important things - they would be there for each other. Of course, that didn't mean Quinn told her sister about how she had seen the little girl (now almost grown up) the previous evening. That didn't mean she had told her sister that over the past few years she had finally dealt with her decision to put her baby up for adoption and had really moved on. That now she was focused on herself and that was how it was going to remain.

Even though the conversation was over for Frannie, it wasn't for Quinn and Cynthia cut the girl out of her thoughts when the question was directed at her. "What about you Quinn, when will you give your parents grandchildren?" The woman smiled at her, expecting her answer. Yes Quinn had gotten over her past, but it would never truly be gone and forgotten. She would never be gone and forgotten. As much as she told herself she was focusing on the future, the past was always going to haunt her: last night had proven that.

Beth was, of course, not spoken about at all and so neither John nor Cynthia knew of her existence. Yet the comment was like a cannon ball to the heart for Quinn. A remark about already producing their first grandchild, as well as granddaughter was perched on the tip of her tongue. But she wasn't a teenager anymore. She wasn't quite so angry about it anymore. She had grown up and now understood completely that what she had done was for the best. Plus, it was Christmas and she didn't want any arguments.

Politely she mirrored Frannie's mannerisms and smiled at Cynthia and said in an overly sweet voice; "Right now I'm focusing on my career. I haven't even got a partner yet." Nonchalantly she shrugged and went back to her dinner. She knew no matter what words she used, she would remind herself of her situation ten years ago: she should have been focusing on her school work and cheerleading enough to not have gotten distracted by Puck. The 'partner' line though, was purely for her own amusement.

The topic of babies was swiftly taken over by the topics of politics, business, school and who would win in a fight: Aquaman or Superman.

There always had to be a 'black sheep' of the family and since getting pregnant, Quinn had taken that position. Sitting at that dinner table, next to her perfect sister with her own perfect family and parents, Quinn had never felt more 'black sheepish'. Her plan would have to happen a little sooner than she hoped, because the 'perfect' Christmas dinner was suffocating her. She needed to get out and she needed to set the wheels in motion.

Pushing her chair back, Quinn excused herself and went to her room to change. There was no way she was going to Rachel's dressed like she was shooting a Christmas commercial. She ran to her room and threw on the clothes she was wearing that day: jeans, t-shirt, sweater and boots, accompanied by hat, coat, scarf and gloves. Getting out of the house was once again tricky. The family had moved themselves into the living area to rest before their dessert was ready. It was at this point in the meal where the boys were allowed to play with their toys, and Frannie must have seen Quinn try to escape as one of her nephews came running up to her, holding out a wrapped present.

"Auntie Quinn!" Came the sickly high pitch voice of Peter. "Where are you going? We haven't had dessert yet!?" His young eyes looked up at her and his eyebrows scrunched tightly together. Sighing but then smiling brightly, Quinn ruffled his hair; "Tell your mom and grandma that I'm just going for a walk. I'll be back soon." But he didn't like that answer. He huffed and stamped his foot - in a very similar way to a teenage Rachel Berry - and said; "No stay because you need to open your present!" Instead of arguing with him, Quinn smiled a little tighter and opened the door. "I'll open it later." And with that, she was out of the house and making her way to Rachel's, not caring her nephew was probably having a tantrum.

The walk did her good. Air did her good. Whether she was running or walking, in New York or Lima, feeling the air flow through her nose and down to her lungs was the best feeling in the world for Quinn. The walk to Rachel's was surprisingly quiet. In her head. It was blank. No ramblings or monologues. Simply blank. Until she came to the red door. Once she raised her hand to knock, she froze and suddenly wished she hadn't come. But she couldn't - and wouldn't - chicken out. And just like that, her wrist bent forward and her knuckles knocked on the door. And she waited.

The time it took for Rachel to get from her place in the living room to the front door was enough time for Quinn to become incredibly nervous. Magically, however, those nerves somehow calmed down the second she saw Rachel's face, staring at her. As the door creaked open - looking like it was in slow motion to Quinn - the fright of what was going to happen increased, but then once it was open and their eyes rested on each other's, it was as if a gentle gust of wind had blown away all the fears the blonde had. She was standing on Rachel's front porch (or her fathers' front porch) and she was ready to talk to her.

Like a light being switched on, all the old memories Quinn had hidden away of Rachel came flooding back. Thoughts of her family, hurtful and painful remembrances of Beth were pushed back where they should be and all she thought of and saw were thoughts of the brunette beauty in front of her. Her dreams were coming true because here they were; face to face in reality for the first time in years.

And Rachel had never looked more beautiful. Her huge brown doe eyes were sparkling with happiness and her smile was tired, small but perfect. She had the face of someone who was happy and content with their life. And for the one millisecond before Rachel realised who she was smiling at, Quinn felt the tiniest bit of guilt that, if this 'meeting' was going to go well, she was going to chase after her and try and make her fall as much in love with her as she was.

But then as soon as that nanosecond was over, Rachel gasped and her body relaxed. It was clear that she had prepared herself for someone - like anyone would when opening the door to someone after being relaxed with their family - and now that she had seen the old, familiar friendly face, she went back to that relaxed state as if she hadn't open the door and was still with her family. Her smile was the same as it had always been, the smile of a seventeen year old girl, and Quinn felt blessed to have that smile was being directed towards her.

"Quinn? Rachel breathed, clearly not expecting the blonde girl, well woman now, standing on her fathers' porch. A shy smile crossed its way onto Quinn's lips and she dug her hands further into her coat pockets as she shrugged. Coyly, and in a small whisper, she waved her hand inside her pocket: "Hi Rachel." Now that Quinn had said something, Rachel didn't waste any time in leaping forward and wrapping her old friend in a traditional 'Rachel Berry Hug'. Her arms wrapped around Quinn's scarf covered neck and she squealed into the fabric; "Wow! I can't believe you're here!" As Quinn carefully wrapped her arms around Rachel's still petit waist – she could feel hardly any baby fat through her clothes, and thought it was amazing how she could have a three month old baby – she chuckled quietly; "I know, it's been awhile." To this, Rachel sprung back, still keeping her arms around Quinn's neck and scoffed lightly, "Awhile? Gosh Quinn I haven't seen you since…forever!" At the slight exaggeration Quinn giggled and wrinkled her nose slightly. "That's a little bit of an exaggeration, Rachel. Even by your standards." Rachel laughed and nodded her head, agreeing with her that, yes; she _may _have over exaggerated slightly. But that was just who Rachel Berry was: and Quinn wouldn't have it any other way.

Once she'd finished laughing, Rachel sighed and frowned slightly, although the huge grin on her face gave off the impression that she was simply confused. "So what exactly are you doing here? I mean, it's Christmas Day, aren't you with your family?" Quinn was about to answer her – having got out the word "well" – but Rachel suddenly realised it was very cold outside (not freezing, but cold enough) and she gasped (again, in her over dramatic way) "Quinn you must come inside!" And, just as Quinn predicted, she was pulled inside by her elbow. As Quinn stripped out of her outdoor winter clothes, Rachel continued to ramble on about how cold it had been, only stopping when a voice coming from the living room called over her; "Rachel? Who's at the door, Sweetheart?" The brunette then gasped again (something Quinn wanted to be worried about, but knew that it really was just Rachel's expression of excitement, it was adorable; excusing the cliché but she really did remind Quinn of a child in a sweet shop or a toy shop: her eyes not big enough to take in everything and not enough breath in her lungs to express everything she wanted to say) and then took Quinn's now de-gloved hand and lead her into the living room.

This was the part of the plan she was worried about. Suddenly she was reminded by the fact this was Rachel's fathers' house. Not her own. And even if it were hers, she didn't live there alone. She had a husband and a child. The child, she could handle. The husband…he was slightly trickier. He was the obstacle that would make her 'grand plan' that more challenging. Anyone would think she was crazy, planning on actively trying to get a married woman to fall in love with her. But as far as she knew, Rachel would love her in the same way as she loved her. It would work because Quinn knew exactly how Rachel Berry wanted to be wooed. Even though her plan had been to see Rachel and talking to her, on some level she knew she also would have to see her family. She didn't want to, but she had to.

Standing in the middle of the room was the one guy I didn't want to see: Brendan. He was everything Rachel deserved in a man. He was handsome, his eyes were like Bambi's; huge and dark with the longest eyelashes she had ever seen on a man. His skin was sun kissed with little dashes of freckles – clearly showing the effects of having been on vacation somewhere warm, or living somewhere warm. He was tall, but not freakishly tall like Finn Hudson, the guy she dated in high school, just the perfect height for Rachel's petit body. Another thing that struck her about him was his appearance. He clearly took very good care of himself, and when Rachel walked over to him and linked his arm, bringing him to her, Quinn saw that they really did look good together. They were the perfect Broadway couple.

Also in the room were Rachel's parents. Leroy was crouched by the tree retrieving a little present that they had forgotten to get out for Imogen. When he heard that Rachel had re-entered the room, he looked up. Shock appeared on his face and then he broke out into a big smile. "Quinn!" He smiled and groaning slightly, got up off the floor, walked over to the blonde. "It's great to see you!" He then leaned down slightly and gave Quinn a little hug. Quinn in return but her arm around him and mumbled, "It's good to see you too Leroy." When he pulled back, the tall man asked how she was and Quinn nodded her head saying she was fine and enjoying her break with the family. It was easy small talk and allowed for him to step back and allow Rachel to have centre stage once again. From his seat, Hiram had looked up from rocking little Imogen in his arms. He smiled and said hello to Quinn too, but quietly so he didn't wake up the just-gone-to-sleep infant. The two husbands then sat together and watched as their unexpected guest was introduced to the final member of the family.

Beaming a large smile at the slightly start struck man who she called her husband, Rachel walked Brendan over – rubbing his arm and looking up at him lovingly – and announced Quinn's presence. "Brendan, sweetheart, this is my very dear, old school friend, Quinn Fabray," Rachel then looked towards Quinn and held her hand out and introduced the man on her arm, "Quinn, as you can probably tell, this is my husband and love of my life, Brendan Satin."

Hearing that the man was not only her husband but the "Love of her life", Quinn felt like she wanted to cry. She wanted to cry because _she _wanted to be the love of Rachel's life. She wanted to be with her so badly that she wanted to cry and sob and wail and beg for them to be together. Instead, she put on her best show smile and stuck her hand out. "It's a pleasure to meet you." Brendan smiled down at her and then asked how long it had been since she and Rachel had seen each other. Of course, in true Rachel Berry style, the brunette swooped in with a full detailed story of how it was about eight years since the last time they had seen each other, going into detail of how they were in Glee Club together and shared a few classes. Brendan looked at his wife with a look of pure awe and adoration and it made Quinn want to claw his face. Quinn simply smiled at him and tried to join in with the catching up story.

As Rachel and Quinn shared stories of their time together in high school, there was a little squeaking sound coming from Hiram. Well, not _from_ Hiram, but from the little girl in his arms. The two women and father turned to Hiram and watched as he struggled to stand with the little wriggling elf dressed baby. Leroy helped him up and Brendan leaped over to him. "Rach, I think this little elf needs some more Christmas dinner!" Leroy chuckled and carefully made sure the youngest Berry was passed from one father to another. "I'll change her afterwards for you sweetie," Brendan offered, kissing his daughter's head as he walked over to his wife. His wife shook her head and said that she would do it seeing as if she would be in the nursery anyway. He smiled again at her, understanding the practicality and the fact that she probably wanting a little more bonding time. What with it being Christmas, Rachel had had to share her baby girl with lots of family members and friends (who, bar Quinn, had already gone home). He kissed his wife on the cheek and rubbed his daughter's back before sitting with Leroy and Hiram – receiving his own pat on the back.

Quinn had watched the way he walked with her. His Bambi eyes were even bigger, watching every step he took but watching his daughter even more, making sure she was okay. Carefully he placed her in Rachel's outstretched arms and his face instantly relaxed. He was clearly a very cautious, worried but protective father. Especially if his first born was ill and premature. As much as Quinn didn't want to, she had to admit he appeared to be the perfect father to a child: especially to this little girl.

Once she was rested on Rachel's shoulder, Quinn could really see the little girl. She was dressed in a little green elf dress with a pretend black belt and golden buckle, with white and red stripy tights. She was small and a little floppy but looked completely healthy and happy. Her little hand gripped onto Rachel's shirt as her cries grew slightly louder. All eyes were still on the pair, and Rachel shushed and cooed at her daughter. Her brown eyes then flickered to Quinn and she smiled at her. "Would you like to come with me Quinn? Catch up some more?" The focus then shifted slightly on Quinn as she thought about the request. Did Quinn want to watch her crush and old friend breastfeed her daughter? Did Quinn really want to intrude on that special moment? No. Even though it would be a perfect setting for a calm trip down memory lane and catch up, she knew she really couldn't stay.

Besides, she didn't want to accidentally have any 'would have been' thoughts if she had kept Beth. Still she had to keep telling herself she was over that and had moved on from her.

Turning to Rachel, Quinn shrugged her shoulders. "No, Rach it's okay. I'd better be going anyway." Even though Rachel protested, Quinn still left, not before shaking the three men's hands and waving to Imogen. Before she left, Rachel told Brendan to give Quinn her number and then the brunette disappeared upstairs to feed, change and lay down her daughter. At the door, Brendan did what his wife asked and gave Quinn Rachel's number so they could meet up again. Once it had been programmed into her phone, Quinn looked up at him. There was a slightly awkward moment and Quinn felt she had to say something: for being a Broadway actor, Brendan was certainly very shy. The blonde looked up at him and smile politely; "So I guess you had a good Christmas so far?" It was always good to keep topics neutral and easy. Besides, they had only just met. The man nodded his head quickly and answered in a slightly nervous way; "Er yeah it was good. A little tiring, what with parents and a baby but…" He spoke for a little while about how Imogen had taken it upon herself to keep her parents (and grandparents) up all night. It was then that Quinn realised he wasn't really that shy; he was probably just sleep deprived. As he spoke of some of the 'funny' things she did, his face and body relaxed. He looked overjoyed as he talked about his little girl. It was clear he could talk about her all night.

Before he got carried away, however, Quinn stopped him and said that she had to get going. It was lovely to see him, to tell Rachel she would call her and for him to get some sleep. Laughing, he nodded his head and told her to get home safely. All through her walk home, however, Quinn was filled with guilt. He was a fantastic father and Rachel was a marvellous mother. But like a child, Quinn wanted Rachel and even though she would have a battle on her hands, she was going to get Rachel Berry. She was going to make her hers, no matter what.


End file.
